


Dibs on the Drunkard

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Academy, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - No Game Grumps, Alternate Universe - No YouTube, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Art School, Comedy, Demon Summoning, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(An alternate universe where Barry is a demon that is accidentally summoned by Ross during a frat party.)</p><p>     "He sighed and shrugged it off. Isolation can certainly lead to a lot of strange thoughts, and he was indeed no stranger to them. All he could do to distract himself from himself was float in the void of rock formations that meshed dark red and black together, and watch as the small, white, glowing bubbles of “mote it be”s and “oh, Lord Lucifer”s floated faintly around him, melding into what he could truly consider his own personal hell.<br/>…<br/>Wait, what was that sound?!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kramer

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this work and the chapters to come, but be careful! This piece contains some alcoholic references, as drinking is actually a very heavy motivation for the start of this story's plot. If this bothers you, then viewer discretion is strongly advised!

     Hell is a strange place of many freakish animosities. Demons, eldritch abominations, and human centipede-like monsters that came out so much worse than anyone could dare think-- these were the creatures that roamed this nonsensical, yet divine realm that were enough to, quite literally, in many cases, scare the life and sanity of anyone near it.

     Too bad Barry was never around to see any of them.

     Barry wondered if any of the humans that he observed thought of a non-stop working experience. The concept of a twenty-four hour of the same, old job, laboring so dully to the beat of a worn drum that seemed as if it were never meant to stop, would surely allure anyone that batted an eye at the thought.

     Too bad not only Barry, but all demons in general, never had even the simple concept of that unneeded thing those humans called “sleep.”

     Too bad they never heard of a break, either.

     Sleeping, eating, and “using the bathroom”, as the humans called it, were all unnecessary functions that seemed to breeze beyond the supernatural and hellish bloodline of demons. Why even bother wasting your time with those silly inconveniences when you could spend more time working for the destruction of humanity? Barry often thought of Lucifer’s logic regarding those “inconvenience” and, in turn, concluded that it was because they had the only thing he desired: that sweet, sweet break. Breaks led to a derailing from the current process of work, even leaving time for something as simple as small talk with someone-- anyone-- willing to listen.

     He had never heard of a case of loneliness driving a demon, of all the creatures in the world, mad beyond prepare, but Barry felt as if it would happen to him soon enough-- especially considering that he seemed to be deemed the worst at his job. “Too soft” and “too kind”, his acquaintances would pass him by and gossip to their other acquaintances, but he just couldn't help that he felt for the people he was summoned to, 99% of the time, wipe off the face of the Earth.

     He sighed and shrugged it off. Isolation can certainly lead to a lot of strange thoughts, and he was indeed no stranger to them. All he could do to distract himself from himself was float in the void of rock formations that meshed dark red and black together, and watch as the small, white, glowing bubbles of “mote it be”s and “oh, Lord Lucifer”s floated faintly around him, melding into what he could truly consider his own personal hell.

     …

     Wait, what was that sound?!

     Barry felt his head jolt up. It took a few seconds to even process why his head jerked up so fast in the first place. There was a cluster, a whole group, of laughing sounds coming from somewhere. He looked around him-- had one of the eldritch abominations gotten into his space? Surely it couldn't be so-- every demon tasked with summoning was always in a space of his own.

     The laughing noise persisted, the hilarity of whatever was going on in this space buzzing around his right ear as if it were a fly searching for a garbage can. It only took a second after the noise spun around near him that Barry caught the buzzing spectacle in his hands. He looked into the closed palms; the laughter and commotion was still going on, only muffled by the pitch black skin that stretched up his forearm roughly. He tilted his head with curiosity-- not annoyance like with a fly, but with curiosity like a butterfly fluttering across the fields.

     He opened up his palms in a way that could let him see the ball of noise without letting it fly off elsewhere. Of all the things it could be, it turned out to be one of the “summoning bubbles” that were meant to pinpoint out those precious requests calling for vengeance from all around the world, but then why was there laughter? Laughter and cheering and any kind of optimism were never meant to go hand-in-hand with demonic summons. He even heard some faint clanking that drowned in everything else going on in this strange scenario. What were they doing? Was the clanking part of the ritual?!

**_GO THERE._ **

     The thought shot into his head like like a bullet, and he knew this was not a thought of his own accord. While many would see the big boss-- Satan, Lucifer, whatever people called him-- as the tiny red guy with the small horns and a pitchfork, everyone else would hardly see him at all. The only thing any of the other demons truly knew about their boss was that he seemed omnipresent, telepathically planting blunt orders into the minds of every demon without as much as a single voice to give some kind of emotion into any situation.

 _Wait, wait, wait, you want me to go in the place with all that laughing?_ Barry thought back to his boss. This would never qualify by his standards; what was he going on about?

**_IT IS THE WORST I’VE SEEN IN YEARS. AMUSE ME._ **

     Barry tilted his head and gave a confused look in response (as if his boss would be able to see his face, anyways), not even daring to respond to Satan’s unholy request of all things.

     He looked back down at the orb of light that contained this laughter. Satan had said that this was the worst summoning he had seen in years, so why was there so much joy that seemed to be going on? Why was there so much happiness that it had to be labeled as so horrible?

 _Guess there’s only one way to find out,_ Barry thought to himself as he began to harness his power to connect himself with whatever portal the summoners made. _Hope they didn't wanna keep those candles burning!_

 

* * *

 

 

     The world was burst of flashing light and dark. Perhaps it was the way that he emerged, but perhaps it was also the lights in whatever room he went to. Despite his lighthearted attitude about the whole situation, he ascended gloriously in front of a group of men in a dimly lit dorm room. Many of the lights that he managed to flicker were not typical light, but colored lights that slowly seemed to flash in all of the colors of the rainbow, bouncing on the pale carpet and the light blue walls. He began to wonder not only why these lights were so colorful, but why they decided to make their large pentagram of salt on a carpet of all things. 

     All of these thoughts were processed as he heard the wild screams of the men he towered over. But slowly, the screams died down and devolved into the very thing he heard in that white ball of light: laughter. Not only that, but cheering and clapping!

     Barry had nothing to say in response but to give an awkward wave and observe his surroundings a bit better. He looked around at the college uniforms that some students were wearing, the pictures that were slanted and fallen in awkward ways, the crushed and empty cans of beer on the carpet, the…

     … the explanation for why this laughter kept on persisting.

     A majority of these men were drunk.

     Barry’s hopes began to sink deep down in the heart he lacked. Was all of this happiness a lie? Was their joy just a simple ploy hidden behind a mask of alcohol?

     No matter what it was that made these men so joyous, it seemingly encouraged them all to come closer to him, fondling the abnormal parts of his body that they lacked.

     “Dude, how do those horn things work?” one guy asked as he glided a finger over the large, curved horn protruding from his forehead.

     “Black arm! You’re wearin’ black arm! Ya bloody racist!” another guy with a thick British accent yelled out, seemingly trying to insinuate a riot from everyone else to no avail.

     Something about this crowd was extremely overwhelming and unsettling-- panic-inducing, even, but he knew for sure that he wasn't going to let himself get so overwhelmed by this absurdity of this situation.

     Barry nervously and frantically began to lightly push others away from his personal space. He stood on the ground, landing from his floating from ten inches off the ground, “okay, okay, if you guys can just… pipe down, I can answer everything!”

     Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be quiet, others even shushing their peers harshly. Eventually, the room was calm, aside from a few giggles and can crushes.

     “Okay. We’re good, right? Good!” Barry awkwardly said to the drunken crowd, trying his hardest to convince _himself_ more than everyone else that everything was a bit more organized.

     “So,” he began, “my name is Barry. I’m the demon that one of you guys summoned. I know you guys are more than confused right now, but I think I can answer your questions as long as we keep things organized.

     “So to answer you two guys up front: I don't know what's up with my horns--” he paused to feel the two smaller devil horns on his head “-- and I don't think I’m racist because of my arms. I was just born like this and there’s a lot worse than me out there. With that out of the way,” Barry sighed and shrugged, figuring he had nothing else better to do, “what else do you wanna ask?”

     Most of the young men began to raise their hands frantically up into the air, some even shouting, “ME ME ME!” as if this were an elementary school classroom. Not knowing who to pick out of this large group, Barry picked the one that was closest to him.

     “You! Uh, sitty guy!” Barry stumbled out as he pointed at the man who was right in front of the candles and the salt pentagram.

     The man in question stood up proudly, albeit a few stumbles and his almost falling over. He seemed to be wearing what he could only assume was some kind of college uniform. The man in the uniform brushed his fingers through his light brown hair, showing off a flashy smile as if he were some famous celebrity.

     “Sweet, got me the dibs!” he said with voluptuous body language and an Australian accent. “Hey, bro. My name is Ross!”

     “Hi, Ross,” the crowd of other people said in a droning unison.

     “Alright, so… what? W-W-What up with ya?” Ross questioned with a slur as he poked Barry in the chest repeatedly, “What’s the terms and condish’s or whatever? T-That thing.”

     Barry simply took a moment to stare at the young lad in contemplation of his drunken speech pattern. It took a few seconds for him to even process what that question was supposed to mean, but he managed to come up with a proper response for him.

     “Well, uh, I’m from what we call the ‘Summoning Sanctum’. We pretty much just get summoned and we do whatever you want us to. Like, I can kill people, give you super good luck, give people super bad luck, the list goes on, dude.

     “So,” Barry continued, “correct me if I'm wrong, but you were the one who did the summoning, right?”

     “Heck right!” Ross exclaimed with joy.

     “And I'm pretty sure you summoned here for a reason, right?”

     Ross looked over as his whispering peers for a second in question before shrugging and answering, “Yeah, I guess.”

     “Well, congrats, dude,” Barry replied with a chuckle, “you got the dibs then--”

     “You hear that, world?!” Ross exclaimed, his Australian accent beginning to thicken slightly, “I got the dibs!”

     Everyone cheered in reply, completely breaking the flow of what he was about to say.

     “Yeah, uh, dibs. You get somethin’ extra spooky, so you better make it count. There’s just about no limits, so ask for whatever and you’ll get it!”

     The crowd let out an “Oooooh” of disbelief. They all seemed lost in thought on what a demon could actually do. While a few yelled out a variety of answers, Barry noticed that they were contemplative, perhaps well aware of the fact that this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity despite the alcohols

     “So… whatever I want, right?” Ross questioned.

     “Yeah, just about.”

     “Just a moment, B-Bar-Barbie…” Ross slipped out as he grouped everyone together in a huddle to discuss what their wish was going to be.

     Barry observed the strange huddle of drunkards who still managed to stay so coordinated in a group. Another shocking aspect was that they were mostly quiet in the huddle, aside from a few mumbles that shrouded main topics and people who spoke just a tad too loud. He had not seen too many drunk people in action, perhaps once or twice in the background, but the entire concept left him in awe, especially at that point. What gain would being drunk give you, especially when it came to holding the power of a demon in hand?

     “Alrighty!” Ross exclaimed, pumping a wavering fist into the air, “my decision has been made.” He made air loud clapped before waverly walking over to Barry with his hands at his hips.

     “Cool, sock it to me, Ross!” Barry replied with a finger gun. Whatever he was going to say, it was sure to be interesting.

     “Okay… I would like…” Ross paused, waggling a finger as another man in the background made a drum roll noise.

     "... sandwich!”

     Barry’s face went completely blank. His mind was not even able to process the absurdity of his request and the room was drenched in silence for a good ten seconds.

     “A sandwich,” Barry retorted completely monotone.

     “Yup!”

     “You summon a demon… and you ask for… a sandwich.”

     “Now, now,” Ross shrugged and chuckled, “did I stutter? D-Did I?”

     Barry could only reply with a slow and drawn out, “No?”

     “Then com’ on, bro! Let's get sandwich… ing… sandwich… party...ing. Now!”

     “But… I can kill people--”

     “Sandwich! Sandwich! Sandwich!” Ross began to chant, waving his hands up in the air as if to insinuate a riot from the crowd behind him. Suddenly, the crowd got louder and louder, faster and faster, and before Barry knew it Ross had managed to get an entire crowd to chant for Barry to make a sandwich.

     Barry was absolutely floored by the somewhat primitive behavior of everyone. He was hardly able to react to any of what was going on this whole time. All he could do was scream internally through the screams of the men that practically drowned in alcohol.

     All he could do was sigh and reply, “What kind do you want?” in an exhausted tone.

The young men began to roar and cheer so loud that he had to cover his pointed ears. When he realized after about five seconds that the madness would not end, he just searched for the kitchen and began throwing together what he could with his lack of knowledge of human food.

 

* * *

 

     A lone, cold, and sloppily made BLT sat on the small kitchen counter, and Barry leaned up against that same kitchen counter. Three hours-- he counted during his time in the kitchen-- and a neglected sandwich later, the party was just about dead. He groaned to himself and rubbed his temple with his finger and thumb.This entire situation was a complete waste of time; was this what he was stuck with?

     As he looked onward as the people leaving, he noticed Ross, the one that asked for the sandwich was also walking out of the door, stumbling out of the door. Barry watched Ross carefully: he gave a big wave goodbye to a man with extremely wavy hair, tried to high-five him and got his hand stuck in that hair, then trudged away whilst almost crashing into the door to a room across.

      The man with wavy hair looked over at Barry, back at the door, and back at Barry again as if this were a cartoon.

     “O-Oh, I’m sorry, don’t worry, I’m just…” Barry tried to explain awkwardly as he grabbed the untouched BLT and walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

     He watched again as Ross went back into his dorm, forgetting to close the door.  
     Well, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to help the guy out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES! It is done! I'm excited to get this out there. I've been working on this for the past few days, so hopefully this pays off! :D
> 
> Okay, so to explain the humans in the AU a little bit, and bare with me on this: Ross and the other Grumps are attending a university.  
> An art university.  
> A catholic art university.  
> In England.  
> I don't know why it's in England specifically, but just go with it.
> 
> So let's say that Ross is about 20-ish? Barry's age is up to interpretation, considering he's immortal and all. He could be his human age, he could be 1000+. Who knows?
> 
> Also, Ross has his full on Australian accent in this AU since he's younger, so that's pretty cool, to.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the next chapter! If you wanna critique my writing, PLEASE do! :)


	2. O'Donovan

   The world was a spinning blur of light, a horrible ascension into reality that Ross was dreadfully closing in on. It blinded him with its horrid luminescence, yet gave him a bit of sight of what he pulled himself into. _Five more minutes_ , he screamed into his head, _just five more minutes of peace,_ but the world wouldn’t let him. Why did it have to be him? Why, why, why?!

    He opened his eyes abruptly, taking in as much light as he could before flinching back under his covers again. Finally, a bit of calm after the storm. Last night was surely something-- last night was only something. What happened last night again? Everything was a complete blur inside his mind. He remembered walking in Danny’s dorm room and waking up here-- the inbetween, if there was one, was a deep pit of blankness.

    Light began to seep through his blanket; he hissed at it. The world was currently a swirling vortex of pain, but at least it payed off. The thrill of the party always seemed to pay off, even if it meant losing his memory of what happened the night before. Loosening up, forgetting the stresses of life and what was expected of him-- that was what the thrill of the party was all about. The thrill of the party lulled him back to the pit of sleep that his overactive mind was aching for. The thrill of the party let him sleep through his hangover and his overactive mind. The thrill of the party… the thrill of the party...

 

    …

 

    Wait, what was that sound?!

    It made Ross jolt from his bed and subsequently cover his eyes from the singing heat of the sun that made his head crave sweet release from this horrible, mortal coil. But that heat didn’t matter. What mattered were the clanks and clunks that seemed to come from outside his room. That couldn’t have been his imagination-- it just couldn’t. Was it rats? God, forbid, if it was rats he was going to rip his neighbors a new one.

    There was another noise! What even was that-- a sizzle?!

    Okay, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. Ross forced himself up, dealing with every single staggering pain and headache as he trudged into the kitchen. He was going to find that noise and put an end to it, as well as putting an end to whoever-- whatever-- was making that noise. Whether it be rats, someone breaking in, or whatever. They were going to--

    Was this real? Was he hallucinating? Who was this man-looking creature that was hovering over his dorm floor? The being’s dark, almost charred black arm, was grasping a frying pan. It’s purple eyes, the purple that was concealed by even more pitch black, showed shock at it looked and glanced over at Ross. Above its eyes, a curled, darker, purple horn that protruded. Even more above that in the dark, brown, and bushy hair was two smaller horns. Whatever messed up being was staring him down, it seemed to stare deep into his soul.

    As it flipped a pancake.

    “Hey, Ross! Sorry if I--”

    Ross screamed with perfect timing.

    “... scared… you… but hey! I’m making you pancakes--”

    “Don’t even think about making another stupid flapjack,” Ross said, searching frantically for some kind of weapon in the drawers, “Get out of my house. _Now._ ”

    “Wait, no no no--”

    “OUT--”

    “STOP. JUST _STOP,”_ the humanoid yelled in equal fear and frustration. “If you give me some time to explain things, maybe I can tell you why I’m still here!”

    “ _Still?!_ ” Ross cried out in frustration as he finally grabbed the biggest steak knife he had.

    “Look, you don't have to stab me!” it paused, mumbling the question of why he was scared. “That-- That's kinda pointless, y’know!”

    “Oh, what's so pointless? _THIS?!_ ” Ross screeched as he thrust the giant knife inches away from the creature’s stomach, causing it to jolt away in pure terror.

    “Dear god, I know I said it was pointless, but those things can still hurt, you know! Just… just pipe down and I can tell you everything.”

    “ _If you guys can just… pipe down, I can answer everything!”_ A voice jolted in Ross’s head, giving him a horrid rush of deja vu. It was absolutely horrifying. The creature in front of his eyes suddenly began to morph into a sense of familiarity. An acquaintance right in front of his eyes, but nowhere to be seen. Was that the creature’s doing, or was that by his own will? Was it some kind of hidden and ancient power, or was it the sweet elixir of alcohol that blotched his memory?

    Ross backed away, placing the knife in arm’s reach on the counter he leaned up against. The creature-- no, man-- that he standed in conflict with really could have answers, but he was still ready to strike him down if he was truly malicious in his intent.

     “What happened last night?” was the question that first blurted its way from Ross’s subconscious. Ross truly meant to ask who he was first, but he went with it; the deja vu seemed to whisper to Ross that the three-horned man had something to do with last night.

    “Wait, can alcohol really not make you remember things?--”

    “I didn’t ask for a question back,” Ross replied bitterly. “Just give me answers.”

    “O-Okay, then,” he answered, clearing his throat and possibly figuring out his words, “I’m Barry. I’m not sure what happened beforehand, but you summoned me--”

    “Wait, I summoned you?” Ross tilted his head in confusion. He pondered for a few seconds before asking, “So, you’re a demon then?”

    “Yep! Bingo!” Barry answered, “But you guys were, like, really drunk and you asked me to make a sandwich and then I ended up stuck in the kitchen and... “ Barry waved his hands around, trying to get out the right words. “... the sandwich is on the counter behind you.”

    Ross looked behind him and, sure enough, there was a sloppy and slightly molded BLT inches away from one of his elbows. He shuddered, moving a bit to the left as to avoid the sandwich.

    “You didn’t really touch it after the party,” Barry added with a shrug, “so I just took it into your place. You _probably_ don’t wanna eat it now.”

    Ross took a moment to pause and take everything in. So, there was a demon that was making flapjacks, one of them slightly burning in the pan at this point. Why did he ask for this Barry guy to make a sandwich? Why that of all the things a demon could do? He sighed, reflecting that, in a way, it was kind of relieving knowing that a stupid sandwich was all that he asked for; he could’ve asked for so much worse without even realizing it. Why did he follow him, though? Why was he making flapjacks? He didn’t ask for those flapjacks, too, did he?!

    “What is up with you?!” Ross questioned a bit louder, causing Barry to jump. “You get summoned, make a sandwich for some stupid drunk kid and you just stay here like you own the place?”

    “Well,” Barry paused and sighed, “that request wasn’t… valid, I suppose?”

    “Valid?”

    “Y-Yeah, valid. You kinda HAVE to do something really bad or supernatural for me to leave. Sandwiches aren’t really evil, dude.”

    “So, are you saying I’d have to... _kill_ someone... to get you out of here?” Ross questioned in shock. In his mind, it was pretty stupid and obvious that he didn’t want anyone to die because of him.

    “I dunno, that’s kind of a popular choice, though. I guess you could be immortal, or maybe get some infinite power, or…?” Barry said, using extreme emphasis on his body language to convey some kind of meaning after his pausing.

    Ross took a moment to think over things. (“Take all the time ya need,” Barry said in a comforting and concerned tone.) Killing was most certainly out of the question for him; he didn’t have anyone he hated _that_ much. Immortality was out of the question, to. All those stories he read in secondary school about immortality’s precious flaws taught him otherwise. No reason to have infinite power, either. What would he, of all people, rule over?

    Ross walked towards Barry, Barry’s body tensing up a bit before being greeted with a light fistbump to the shoulder.

    “Congrats, Barry,” Ross said calmly with a smile, “guess you’re stuck here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYY! I'm back with a second chapter! I'm really sorry that it's shorter than the last chapter (About 1400 compared to the 2700 that were in the last, apparently!), but at least our establishment has been made! I have to say, 77 looks may not be a lot to some people, but that really is a lot-- especially to me. 77 people is like 2 or 3 large classrooms, that's freakin' awesome! Thank you all. :)
> 
> You know how other characters are in the tags? Well, they're gonna get their moment to shine in the next chapter! 
> 
> I'm really glad people enjoy this. Like I said in the last chapter, feel free to critique if you want! I would love you forever if you do! ;)


	3. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are extremely lucky that you have not been expelled,” the proctor continued, “but I hope this teaches you a valuable lesson in changing your behavior.” He paused again, looking back at Ross. “And by the looks of it, I believe it is finally sitting in."

    “Do you know why you’ve been sent into my office?” the proctor said, pacing behind his desk and giving a stern gaze towards Ross, who was slouching slightly into his chair.

    “No, I have  _ no _ idea,” Ross droned out sarcastically with his thick Australian accent, rolling his eyes and not letting his pokerface leave him. He had spoken to vice-proctors on multiple occasions, but it wasn’t like this lead proctor was going to be any different. All it was for him was another scolding from useless faculty.

    “Do you think you feel smart, thinking that you’re so high and mighty by letting that attitude rub off on everyone else?”

    “No,” Ross answered, straightening up his figure and seemingly taking the situation a bit more seriously.

    “Then why do you bother to do it? It’s not making anyone else’s life easier, and it’s most certainly not making your life easier.” The proctor paused, thinking over what he would say next to intimidate the young man.

    “Would you like to know how many noise complaints we got sent?”

    “How many--”

    “ _ Thirteen _ ,” he replied before Ross could finish fully speaking, the number actually shocking Ross to the proctor’s credit, “thirteen complaints from everyone else. Do you not take consideration into the fact that other people perhaps want to get a good night’s rest in an environment that was perhaps not so…  _ toxic _ ?” He spat out the word “toxic” with absolute disgust, as if it were such a bad thing to loosen up every once in awhile.

    “I didn’t start it, y’know,” Ross muttered quietly, trying his absolute hardest not to let any of the sass he had contained inside spill out at his authority.

    “Do you think that any of the staff cares who started it!?” the proctor raised his voice in anger. “All that matters is that we know that there was some kind of party and that every witness has led us up to  _ you. _ ”

    Of course Ross would be the scapegoat. Everybody that he hung around enjoyed his company-- he wasn’t the most popular of people, but not the most lowly, either-- but they always seemed to always place the blame on him for whatever reason, even if he wasn’t entirely involved. Perhaps it was because he ended up taking in so many drinks despite his lower tolerance.

    “But on a brighter note, perhaps we can figure out who hosted this little party in the first place,” he reflected on more calmly as he sat down at his desk, facing coldly towards Ross, “so I must inquire: which dorm did you go to?”

    Ross reflected over everything that had happened this morning: the hangover, the flapjacks, and that stupid,  _ stupid _ demon he was stuck with. Well, to be fair, the demon wasn't completely stupid-- more like a waste of space and privacy that he was forced to be around. It was Danny’s dorm, along with Ross’s own stupidity, that led him into this entire situation. Danny and him were very close, oftentimes playing games and drinking together. He couldn't just leave him in the dark like that.

    Wait. Drinking-- that was it! He could substitute punishments on every participant with a greater one on himself. Maybe it was a risky move, but it was worth a shot.

    “Iunno, mate,” Ross said with a big shrug, “Gonna be honest, we had a lot of booze and my mind is kinda fuzzy.”

    “So, you don't even remember whose dorm you went into?” the proctor questioned with a tilt of his head.

    “Look, man, beer is weird,” Ross replied with a lesser shrug.

    The proctor glared harshly into Ross’s very being, possibly analysing every move and twitch that he was making up until this point. Admittedly, as calm as he appeared about this situation, he was very much screaming and panicking on the inside.

    After a long pause the proctor sighed. “I just don't know what to do with you, Mr. O’Donovan,” he mustered out in a frustration that glazed over his voice, “but I will tell you that the staff here won't allow this nonsense to appear on campus again.”

    The proctor began to use his computer. “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Donovan,” he replied, “but I’m afraid a most fitting punishment for something this extreme is to put a failure on all of your classes.”

    Ross jolted upward in shock, panic beginning to swell up inside him and tears even forming in his eyes. How the heck could he do that?! He couldn't just start over like that-- that was completely ridiculous! That wasn’t fair! He wanted to scream and yell so badly at the proctor, but the more that he really thought about it, the more he realized that perhaps this was just. Maybe his actions were finally catching up with him.

    “You are extremely lucky that you have not been expelled,” the proctor continued, “but I hope this teaches you a valuable lesson in changing your behavior.” He paused again, looking back at Ross. “And by the looks of it, I believe it is finally sitting in.

    “You may stay within the campus limits for the time being. We’ll be sure to send you your new lesson plans as soon as possible. You are dismissed.”

 

\---

    Barry watched as Ross pushed the door open with strength and frustration, almost getting Barry smacked in the process. Barry was nervous, though he really didn’t have any idea why. It was always nerve-wracking seeing someone go somewhere to talk with no explanation. In fact, why was he standing out here in the first place? He tried to explain to Ross that he could make himself invisible to everyone but him, but he didn't seem to want to listen, as if something terrible was occupying his mind.

    “So,” Barry began, trying to start conversation, “how did things go with the guy?”

    “Barry,” Ross sighed, “I think it might’ve been a mistake bringing you here.” He began to walk to an exit, prompting Barry to follow beside him as they talked. “I was drunk and the fact that I even went to Danny’s stupid party was just  _ awful _ and… I’m just sorry.”

    “No, no, no, I like Earth!” Barry assured Ross, giving him a couple pats on the shoulder that were stopped by the glare of anger in Ross’s eyes. “It’s nice here, man, it wasn’t a mistake! Wait, are you crying?”

    Ross held a hand up towards Barry as they passed by some random people, making Barry hush in an instant. What was the deal with Ross? Did something bad happen to him? Barry wouldn’t know until they went on the side of the building they exited-- a place where paved sidewalks and rosebushes were the only company.

    “All of my credit,” Ross finally said quietly, “A year’s worth of credit gone into my animation degree.  _ Gone _ .”

    “It's okay, I know you can…” Barry began before really thinking things over. He had no contact with humans and he was trying to comfort him for things he didn't even understand. “... I-I don't… get it?” he finished much quieter.

    “Yeah, of course you wouldn’t get it,” Ross bitterly replied through his sadness, turning towards the wall,”Why am I even talking to you about this, anyways? Not like you understand scholarships and universities and job markets!” Ross bashed his fist at the brick wall, scaring Barry immensely.

    Barry immediately grabbed Ross’s wrist. “Don't hurt yourself over this! Look, I’m sorry I said that, that doesn't mean I can't comfort you!” Barry turned Ross around, being faced with pure negative emotion from Ross; Barry almost felt mortified seeing Ross like that. This was who he had to be, wasn't it? The empathetic demon who had to feel for someone he hardly knew.

    “I-I… I know... it's only been a few hours,” Barry stuttered out, “and I know I’m not exactly the most human-savvy, but… you have to believe me on what I’m going to say. A-And if I ask you anything, just give me an answer. Got it?”

    Ross nodded.

    “Okay…” Barry gulped. “Why did you lose all your… ‘credit’. That was it, right?”

    Ross nodded again, pausing to most likely get his thoughts together. “Credit,” he answered, “That party. I drank and I went there.” He paused to sniffle and wipe away the tears from his eyes. “Someone probably told them and… lookie here, I’m just a genius!”

    “Well,” Barry thought as he tried to ad-lib the situation, “who said that was a bad thing?” Ross’s face became just a bit more twisted at this reply. “No, I don’t mean to…” Barry began to assure through the lump in his throat that made him worry that this was all going to go downhill. “... it's animation? That's the thing where you move the pictures, right?”

    Ross nodded again, a confused and fearful look now plastered on him.

    “Maybe it doesn't hurt to go back to the basics? You could, like, refine them and make them better?”

    Ross nodded once more as he thought this advice over, making Barry smile. He was helping! He was actually helping someone out! He didn't know why, but this began to make something resonate within him.

    “And… and everyone makes mistakes! The most you can do there is make yourself a better person out of it,” Barry replied, tears welling up in his own black-ridden eyes.

    He didn't know what kind of instinct drove him to do this, but Barry ended up hugging Ross. He squeezed him tightly, trying to make sure he didn't squeeze Ross too hard. The heat from Ross’s skin seemed to persist through his clothing, making him feel so warm against the chill of his own claws, and he sank into this warmth. It made him feel freedom and happiness, as if he didn't need the sun shining over the Earth to feel this warmth.

    “I didn't hear much, but I heard that guy say that you were lucky about something. And you know what?” Barry said, his face going numb from the smiles, “I think you are pretty lucky.”

    Soon enough, Ross hugged Barry back and let the tears soak Barry’s shirt; Barry only squeezed harder. Barry began to feel the warmth even more. There was just something so special about it that made him never want to let go. It made time freeze and it surprisingly made it feel like things were going to be okay. Soon enough the crying and sobbed turned into silence, the warmth of both orbiting around, but Barry knew that this needed to stop at some point. They couldn't just sit in this little corner with such a big area to explore.

    “Do you wanna stop talking about it? Maybe we can take a walk around here or something?” Barry questioned, patting Ross on the back. He began to very slightly let go, but he quickly changed his mind. Something told him to hold on just a tiny bit longer.

    Ross, on the other hand, stopped the hug on his own accord, pulling back from Barry’s body and wiping away what was left of the salty liquid from his eyes and staring at Barry in complete shock as the what just happened.

    “Y-Yeah,” Ross stumbled out, “let's just walk. This whole thing was just… a mess…”

    “Well, you faced your feelings, and I don't think that was that bad of a thing!” Barry attempted to reply with an awkward joy.

    “I hardly even know you,” Ross replied with great sass, “and I just cried. That's almost as bad as in front of a stranger! Doesn't get worse than that!” Ross once again walked back along the path, Barry catching up with him a bit better this time around.

    “Those rosebushes look pretty neat,” Barry said in an attempt to start on a different tangent.

    “I dunno about that yet,” Ross shrugged as he looked at them. “They’ve been here a couple years now and they haven't even bloomed.”

    Barry paused and fondled at one of the flower buds. He began to smile once more, “Well, it doesn't mean they can't look nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm gonna introduce minor character," I said as I began this chapter. "It's gonna be all fun and more comedy," I said.
> 
> I am so, SO sorry. :')
> 
> I actually meant for this to be combined with a confrontation with minor characters, but this ended up being SO long and SO emotional and SO much of a tone change! 
> 
> Sadly, there's going to be a delay over the next one or two months. There's a delay this month, October, because I not only have a project in my writing class, but am also celebrating Halloween Month with a 30 day drawing challenge on my Tumblr. There is a good chance for a delay in November because I'm highly considering participating in NaNoWriMo, which will give me hardly ANY time for writing this, if any time at all.
> 
> Well, anyways, I hope this chapter is good. If this tone change is too drastic, please let me know and I'll avoid it... for the time being... ;)
> 
> Oh! By the way! There is also a game of Find the Symbolism! Guess what it is and you get a million brownie points. :D


	4. Avidan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross stood in front of the dorm room of Dan Avidan, Barry hovering right behind him with a nervous and anxious feeling forming in his stomach. He knew that fear would take hold of Dan, but what was Barry anticipating more: seeing someone actually scared of him or talking with that person face-to-face?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Fourth chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! :D
> 
> Also... maybe you'll enjoy a little bit of something added in the tags? ;)

            Ross sat on the edge of his small bed, taking deep breaths as he contemplated on the events of the past. His fingers covered his nose and he was staring intently at the carpet as he spaced out, the world seemingly slowing down as all of his thoughts passed through his mind. The fact he was even able to stay in the dorm he was contemplating his thoughts so fiercely in until the next season was absolutely mind-boggling, and it still shocked him that he wasn't kicked out. It was certainly something interesting when flunking your entire semester was considered merciful.

            “Still upset?” a voice chimed with comfort to Ross.

            There it was: the echoing voice that spoke of comfort through an eldritch and menacing facade. It was haunting, yet managed to bring in such a bond in such a short time. Alluring, but leaving Ross wanting more, even after a couple days of even knowing the guy.

            The voice of Barry.

            Barry was certainly something different. He had been staying with Ross in his dorm for the past week and he was full of pure wanderlust. Curiosity overwhelmed every sense of his being, but even through the multiple occasions of mind-numbing barrages of questions, he was still a companion. Ross didn't know what is was, but he ended up feeling this deep sense of caring for Barry.

           “Are you okay?” Barry asked Ross; Ross must’ve spaced out the first time he asked.

            Ross simply nodded to Barry’s response, albeit a tad bit delayed. The beige carpet his feet rested on were still his only source of eye contact.

            “Weeeeell…” Barry’s voice drew out as he was perhaps thinking of another great way to charm him. “... don’t you have anybody else to talk to?”

            Ross perked his head up at the question.

            “N-Not to say I’m not here, it just probably helps if you--”

            “Yeah…” Ross’s voice droned off in reply. “That’s… kind of part of the issue…”

            “Eh?” Barry tilted his head at the remark.

            “What, you thought you were the only guy I knew?” Ross chuckled a tad bit before slinking back into his own depression.

            “No?” Barry replied, perhaps not getting the joke.

            Ross groaned a bit; not because he was annoyed by Barry, but because his poor attempt at depressed humor flew right by his head. Good god, he sucked when he was sad!

            “Well, I just gotta talk to a friend of mine. With the whole ‘stopping being such a nuisance to society’ thing, and with hanging out with literally _mid-twenties men_ , it kinda happens.” Ross shrugged.

            “Who is he?” Barry questioned; he seemed drawn into Ross’s life, that curiosity ever-so-present and eager to learn more about the world.

            “His name’s Dan,” Ross replied, loosening up his previously tense muscles a bit. “He’s a pretty cool guy.”

            “I bet he is,” Barry replied with a smile. “What’s the issue?”

            “I just need to talk to him about the drinking thing. No biggie,” Ross shrugged off the situation for that brief moment, but truthfully, he was absolutely _terrified_ of what would succumb from facing his friend about this problem. Dan always carried himself as a calm person, and Ross knew for a fact that he would never end up blowing his fuse without some very good reason in mind, but, in a strange way, the large alcoholic tendencies ended up serving as a step of trust for Ross. The fact that Ross was able to get drunk and let loose in front of Dan proved that he could tell him just about anything without fear. What would happen when this symbol of trust that was engraved in Ross’s and Dan’s friendship was disrupted?

            “Oh, so you’re not drinking anymore?”

            “Nah,” Ross replied, his hands finally out of his face. “Already caused me enough trouble-- you should know!” Ross chuckled to himself.

            “Well, it's not the worst thing. If it wasn't for that, I guess I wouldn't be able to explore the world. I needed a day off, honestly!”

            “Oh, shut up!” Ross exclaimed jokingly to the demon; Barry always had to be so optimistic about things sometimes that it was almost sickening.

            “Actually,” Barry began, stifling through some leftover laughter, “I, uh, wanted to ask you about something!”

            “Sure, Bar, knock yourself out.”

            “Well, I was wondering if I could hang out with you and… Dan?”

            “Dude, you come with me _everywhere_.”

            “No, but I mean… hang out… like, all together.”

            The shock that Ross felt singed in a slow manner, the magnitude of what Barry was asking for sinking in the more he thought about it.

            “Together?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Like, you and me. All together. All of us talking?”

            “Did I ask too soon or something?” Barry added, his pale skin beginning to flush a great purple hue in embarrassment.

            Ross didn't understand, even from a being of Barry’s caliber, why and how he would try to communicate with even more people. If Barry were to pop into his conversation, there would be the question of how Dan would handle a dark being on top of his friend quitting alcohol! With the drinking thing he at least had an idea of what could happen, but if Dan were to see a demon...

            If Dan were to see a demon…

 

* * *

 

            Ross stood in front of the dorm room of Dan Avidan, Barry hovering right behind him with a nervous and anxious feeling forming in his stomach. He knew that fear would take hold of Dan, but what was Barry anticipating more: seeing someone actually scared of him or talking with that person face-to-face?

 _Fear_. The word “fear” stuck out to him like a sore thumb. Maybe it was because fear was something that he didn't see very often, but it could also be because that was the feeling he became accustomed to since yesterday. Considering he was a runt in his litter of co-workers, he didn't really know how to feel knowing that he would see legitimate fear in another human being’s eyes-- one not influenced by drunken madness. Was he even okay with it?

            “Alright,” Ross whispered, making sure Dan would not hear him from outside his door, “let’s get this outta the way.”

            “I know you’ll do fine,” Barry reassured Ross with a couple gentle pats on his shoulder.

            “Whatever you say,” Ross sighed and proceeded to lift his hand in the air with a smile; Barry collided his hand with Ross’s own. High-fives, they were called, right?

            Three knocks on the door from Ross sealed the deal as their anticipation increased.

            “Just a sec!” a voice hollered from the crevices of the room. Footsteps, about six or seven, were heard from behind and gradually became louder before the door opened to reveal the man himself.

            “Oh, Ross! Hey, come in,” the man replied as he welcomed the Australian inside with his smooth and tired voice.

            An air of familiarity began to arise as he observed Dan; he recognized him from the party he was summoned in. It almost sent a wave of sickness in the pit of Barry’s stomach as he remembered the absolutely awkward gaze that they both shared.

            Despite the two of them looking at each other like deer in the headlights in the past, Dan was a surprisingly calm (and surprisingly good-looking) man. A bit of slouching in his walk inside would usually imply depression, but his very being radiated content and relaxation that spread into Barry like a contagious infection. His clothes showed content as well as he donned blue pajamas with fuzzy pants and pink, contrasting slippers. Even his hair of all things displayed something carefree in his soul as it was growing out in dark brown curls.

            Oh no-- he was _perfect_.

            Barry floated in behind Ross and observed his surroundings, which were surprisingly a bit messy. Of course, the format of the spacing was the exact same, along with the overall style, but this dorm room had small shopping bags that were tied up and full of trash and wrappers next to a large couch facing the wall where the door was. Across the couch, a small and old-looking TV flickered with an inactive light, some kind of gaming system plugged into it.

            Dan jumped backwards as he crashed to the corner of the couch and laid his head on the arm of the couch; Ross simply sat like normal, taking his shoes off and stretching out his legs. Barry sat criss-cross on the floor, observing the room as well as the two patrons in it.

            “Sorry about the mess, still,” Dan began, “Arin hosted another one of his parties in my dorm and it was somethin’ else, I’ll say!” Barry cocked his head; there seemed to be a tinge of discontent in his tone.

            “No biggie, man. I understand,” Ross replied, waving his hand as he spoke. “Feels pretty good being closer to my people, anyways.”

            Dan simply laughed in response, but his laugh was absolutely heavenly. It showcased the pure embodiment of joy; it was mind boggling! This short laugh seemed to last forever, encasing the entire room in a glow of comfort and happiness.

            “So, uh, life treating you well?” Dan asked through stifled giggles that had no reason to be stifled.

            “Oh,” Ross’s content paused. “About that… _hoo boy_...” Ross’s voice shook as the true purpose of his arrival unfolded into reality.

            “What’d you do this time?” Dan asked jokingly, a cheeky smile forming on his face.

            “Actually… you remember last week? What happened then?”

            “Oh my god, who could forget?!” Dan replied in amusement, more (beautiful) giggles coming from him. “The whole school is still talking about it-- it was awesome!”

            “Yeah, well… everyone was making a LOT of noise--”

            “Did you get called down again?--”

            “ _Stop,_ ” Ross interrupted, a grim and annoyed expression forming. Dan sat up, watching Ross in fear. Barry only observed with caution lest he would have to butt in. “Look, Dan: this is eating me up, but… my entire college career is wiped.”

Barry observed Dan’s face as it contorted into fear and regret. Looking at both of them as every dark undertone burst into an array of emotions: bitterness and anger from Ross; sadness and embarrassment from Dan; absolute regret that singed the whole room with a sour atmosphere.

            “All my grades. _Gone_. Just like that.”

            “Oh,” Dan mustered out in reply, “I’m really sorry, Ross.” His voice jittered in sadness and his face blushed a bright red. His worrisome expression showed that he truly cared-- something that Barry truly admired, especially in a situation such as this. “Oh, god, I feel really bad now, and I don’t want it to seem like I’m rubbing it in your face--” Dan proceeded to bury his face in his hands. “-- _augh_ , I’m so _sorry_ , dude!” Barry blushed himself as he saw the display; there was a light emerging from the dark that took the form of the sincerity of this man’s firsthand embarrassment.

            “Ah, don’t feel bad, man, ya didn't know.” Ross replied, slouching back a bit more in his own spot. “Just that… I’m not really gonna be drinkin’ or partyin’ anymore, so--”

            “Well, I should hope so!” Dan exclaimed, his hand twitching as if he wanted to pull Ross closer to him. As Barry observed, Dan seemed to be spilling out every thought he had to Ross; they both shared something strong with each other. Just as Dan wanted to pull Ross closer, Barry wanted to do the same to both of them. Something in his gut was screaming at him to do something-- _anything_ . “God, I feel like a _douche_! Why didn't you say anything about anyone else?! Dude, I would’ve taken the blame myself if I could!”

            Ross simply shrugged in reply.

            “Oh my god, I’m gonna _kill_ everyone,” Dan muttered angrily to himself as he stood up and began pacing. “That is _not_ cool, that is _not_ cool at all. That's emotional abuse, Jesus Christ, that is not okay!” Instinct seemed to finally take hold of Dan as he pulled Ross into a more straightened position, and as Barry looked at the display, his own comforting instincts were emerging from their crevices.

            “No. This is _not_ okay.”

            Get out.

            “I am _never_ letting you get pushed around like that again.”

_Get out._

            “I’m getting your--” Dan bit his tongue, holding back bitter language. “-- _stupid credits_ back, and I don't care if I have to start a _riot--_ ”

**_GET OUT._ **

            Barry could take it anymore; Barry stood up, bursting from invisibility and appearing before Ross and Danny with flaring, mixed emotions he couldn’t even recognize for himself anymore.

            “Rioting is not going to do a thing!” Barry cried out, his fingers pointed at a pale-faced and flabbergasted Dan. The world seemed to stop as the two of them locked eyes-- familiarity, embarrassment, and a less than graceful leave-- all of that circling back in a matter of mere milliseconds.

            Barry’s face turned from a heroic look of anger to sadness and fear. “Dan, oh my god, I am so, so sorry.”

            No response.

            “Ross, y-you’re seeing this, to, right?” Dan questioned in a hushed voice to Ross.

            As Barry observed Ross, he saw that his face was a mix of fear and frustration-- very likely centered at him.

            “About that, too!” Ross began, his voice shaking in an unpleasant fear and a glare at Barry that told him that maybe he shouldn’t have just butted in like that.

            Suddenly, Dan’s face became that of realization. “No. Freaking. Way.” Dan’s fear suddenly morphed into shock, except this shock had a different air to it: an air of joy. Barry’s own face became shocked, as well, by such an unexpected reaction. “He’s still around?!”

            Oh, dear lord, he remembered him, too!

            Ross tilted his head as Dan ended up moving closer to Barry, observing the way that Barry carried himself as he watched the tension clear from his very presence.

            “How do you even--?!” Ross choked out in complete shock and awe.

            “Don’t act surprised, man you know I don’t get drunk! Someone’s gotta keep watch of everyone else, you know? But I remember this guy clear as day when he popped out of the carpet! He was an absolute _doll_.”

            An absolute doll.

_Sweet baby Jesus._

            “It’s, uh… really nice to meet you, man. What was your name again. Barry, right?”

            “Y-Yeah,” Barry replied with a smile, “that’s my name, don’t wear it out!” He let out an awkward chuckle.

            “Dude, your horns are so cool! Is it okay if I feel them, or…?”

            “No, it’s fine! Thanks for asking first,” Barry answered back, his three horns now being gently caressed by calloused fingers.

            “Hold on a sec,” Dan paused in the middle of his rubbing, putting his hand down and looking at Ross, “‘About that, too’? _Really_ , dude? You knew this whole time and you’re just now telling me?!” His realization ended with another one of his signature laughs.

            “Well, it’s not exactly the easiest thing to explain to someone, is it?” Ross sassed back.

            “Makes sense,” Dan shrugged as he went back to caressing Barry’s horns. “So, how long were you watching everything, exactly?”

            “If I’m gonna be honest… I kinda saw all of it.”

            “Then, _God_ , I’m sorry! Talk about a bad first impression!” Dan replied with a giggle. “Usually I don’t get too angry like that; I dunno what came over me.” Dan shrugged, walking back over to Ross and giving him a tight, friendly hug. “Okay, so maybe your friend is right about the rioting thing. I won’t cause more trouble than there already is, but just so you know: you always have a friend to back you up. A little stupid sometimes, but still there!

            “But I’m still telling the staff about that stuff.” Dan added, poking Ross on the nose and triggering some kind of play-fighting.

            As the goofing around continued on, Barry looked around and noted that his presence gave this little room some sort of comfort, as if he were a beacon of light in the darkness of tension.

            Him-- a demon-- a beacon of light.

            A demon causing any kind of good in the world-- whether it be something as big as saving a life, or as small as relieving someone’s negative emotions-- was indeed something very rare-- traitorous, even. Demons were always hell-bent on destruction and terror at their wake, but Barry didn’t care about that anymore. If everyone else just looked at the good in humanity, maybe they would see that they didn’t need to cause destruction to prove their point. What was even the point, anyways? Why did they need to instill fear into the heart of the mortal world?

            Fear.

            “Fear” was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 4! FINALLY! *Throws confetti into the air*
> 
> Okay, I wanted to introduce all of the more minor characters in one chapter, but this ended up being mostly a Dan kinda thing anyways, so whoopsies! Don't worry, though. Arin and Holly will be introduced into the story eventually! :)
> 
> To explain the ACTUAL reason I ended up with a hiatus: it was a combination of a lack of motivation, general laziness, and A LOT OF ANTISEPTICEYE. There was SO MUCH ANTISEPTICEYE last month and I STILL CAN'T GET OVER IT AAAAAAAAAAA--
> 
> Also, I got rid of the catholic school aspect of the university. I mean, I guess it would still be catholic, but honestly: would making the university religion-centric really affect the story in any way? Really doesn't seem like it so far. :P
> 
> I'm really glad you guys like this story! Once again, any comments, questions, or critiques you have are gladly accepted! :)


End file.
